


Club Calavera

by ll_again



Series: Phases of Domestication [6]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Molly and Jim are the epitome of a gross couple, Molly has a mean right hook, Originally Posted on Tumblr, drunk!jim, the shit Seb puts up with
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-14 19:19:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13596660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ll_again/pseuds/ll_again
Summary: Downing five zombies doesn't give Jim the liquid courage he needs to ask Molly a very important question. It only makes him forget that he and Molly are already together.





	Club Calavera

**Author's Note:**

> And here it is. This is the thing that started my descent into this Molliarty universe. Inspired by [this](http://whyimmathere.tumblr.com/post/165931034152/sherlock-bbc-incorrect-quotes-5).

Three adults, even if two of them were smaller than average, was not a comfortable fit for the single-occupancy toilet at the back of Club Calavera. Even less so when one of them was on the verge of a panic attack and pacing frantically in tight circles.

Seb kept a firm grip on the back of his boss' jacket as he turned towards Molly, who was muttering a steady stream of 'oh god's under her breath. "Doctor Hooper," he said.

"Oh God, I'm gonna die," Molly said, voice lifting into a wail. "Jim's gonna _kill_ me."

Jim, bent over the sink dripping blood, snot, and tears, didn't look in much of a state to kill anyone.

"Yeah, I doubt that," Seb said. "Doctor Hooper, just-"

She rounded on him, brown eyes flung open in an expression that anyone who worked for Jim had been categorically conditioned to fear. "This is your fault, Moran," Molly said, pointing a shaky finger at him.

"Oh, hell," he muttered under his breath.

"I _told_ you I didn't need self-defense lessons! And now I have these … these reflexes! And I didn't know, I didn't know it was Jim who'd grabbed my ass and now he's gonna skin me and turn me into _Gucci_!" Tears welled up in Molly's eyes, and Seb flinched.

"Doctor Hooper – Molly," he said, trying to stay calm for everyone's sake, especially his own. "Jim can't turn you into Gucci."

"Knock-off Gucci!" Molly hiccuped, her expression indicating that this was somehow a worse fate.

Jim gurgled, and Seb hauled him out of the stream of water gushing from the tap. With his free hand, he tore off a wad of paper from the bog roll and pointed at the toilet. "Sit," he said, shoving the paper at his boss' sniffling girlfriend. Molly took it and plonked down onto the closed lid. "Jim isn't going to kill you," Seb explained with the last of his patience. "He's trying to marry you. But if he gets blood on the Westwood, we're both in for it, so can you put on your doctor pants for two seconds and do something about this?"

Molly stopped halfway through blowing her nose. "Trying to what? Wait, is he crying?"

Jim was, in fact, sniveling into the sink. And still trying to drown himself under the faucet. Seb jerked him back a second time.

"You told him you weren't single," he said.

"I'm not single!" Molly huffed, throwing up her hands. Jim's quiet sobs ratcheted up a notch. "Oh!" Jumping up, she joined them at the sink, wadding up the slightly used tissue in her hand and pressing it to Jim's nose. Seb made a face, but he unfortunately knew for a fact that the pair were well accustomed to each other's bodily fluids. "Put his head back, that's it. Let's sit him down."

Together, they guided/wrestled Jim to the toilet and made him sit. "Knew I was too late," he said mournfully as Molly leaned over him, voice distorted by his bloodied nose. "'Course you'd already be taken. 'S that Holmes, 'sn't it?"

"No, love," Molly said gently, peeling away the tissue to check if he was still bleeding. "I'm not single because I'm your girlfriend."

"Fiancée," Seb corrected, grabbing the fabric at Jim's shoulder to keep him from toppling off the toilet.

Jim lit up as brightly as if Sherlock Holmes had been delivered to the door naked and tied up in a bright red bow. "Really?"

"Really," Seb said, shooting Molly a look. "Inside pocket."

She replaced the tissue and moved Jim's hand to keep it in place before unbuttoning his jacket and reaching in to find the square box hidden there. Jim, holding the tissue to his nose, watched her, besotted and maybe even drooling a little.

"Did you just propose on Jim's behalf?" Molly asked Seb, turning the box around in her hands.

"Six fucking weeks he's had that in his pocket," Seb grumped. "It's about time _someone_ asked you."

And downing five zombies hadn't quite given Jim the liquid courage he'd been seeking. Rather, they'd only wiped his and Molly's relationship out of his memory temporarily (but not, Seb had been amused to note, Jim's complete and utter infatuation with Doctor Molly Hooper).

"Yes, but, I mean…" Molly glanced sideways at Jim, who was still nearly catatonic with joy.

"What, like you there was even a chance you'd say no?" Sebastian said. "Just open the damn box already."

Despite his irritation, Sebastian smiled when Molly squealed as soon as she saw the ring – a silver, anatomically correct skull, with a pair of glittering rubies in the eye sockets. The box clattered to the floor in Molly's haste to slide it onto her finger, before she launched herself at Jim.

"Mine," Jim said, twining his arms around her waist and smearing his bloody nose all over Molly's dress.

Sebastian backed off, silently debating the merits of trying to get those two out of the club before they…

Oh. Too late.

Unlocking the door, Sebastian slipped out and closed it behind him, leaning against the doorframe to stand guard while he waited.

A wolfish grin stole over his face. So much for not ruining the Westwood.


End file.
